Set Fire to the Third Bar
by all.I.wanted.x
Summary: Dean feels like he's drowning, sometimes, and he isn't sure if anyone can save him. Not even her. Dean/OFC. Rated T to be safe. Not your typical OFC story.
1. By Moonlight

Sam was sleeping soundly when Dean left. So soundly, in fact, that he didn't wake when his brother slipped out the door. Dean was grateful – both for the fact that he got away undetected, and that his little brother was finally getting a decent night's rest. It had been so long since he'd had one, and Dean was relieved. It wasn't like Dean himself hadn't been sleeping. No, of course not. Dean was fine. He was [i]always[/i] fine. It wasn't like his head was constantly pounding, his body exhausted, his mind completely tattered. His pain was so intense, now, he'd managed to find a way to almost physically separate it from himself, until it was like a living, breathing entity. Problem was, he'd never be able to escape it, no matter what he did. And so it was, on nights like these when the ache in his heart started to increase more than he could bear in the silence of the late night, he got into his Impala and drove.

Tonight was no exception. He didn't bother with a seat belt or the radio, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. Whispers of his conscience echoed in his head though he tried to block them out. Michael. Lucifer. Vessels. Destiny. Sam. His grip on the wheel tightened, his foot pressing harder on the gas as he sped down the road. His jaw was set, tight, and perhaps if it were not for sheer luck (or the ever-hated, so-called "destiny") Dean would not have seen the car, parked near the gate of the small town's park. He slowed to a stop immediately, letting Metallicar idle as he peered closer at the model. Yep. It was the same crappy car he'd thought it was – dark green, '96, Taurus. Something flickered in his eyes as he turned off the ignition and climbed out. She was here.

His boots crunched on the leaves as he strode through the iron-clad gates, his leather jacket rustling quietly along with his movements. He was on edge, aware, like he always was, and it didn't take long for him to find her. She was sitting on a bench overlooking the small lake. The moonlight was bouncing off the water and illuminating everything around it with an eerie glow – her crimson hair included. Dean stopped a good few paces behind her and waited. She turned. Her grey eyes glittered against the light, and he didn't miss the way her lips turned up slightly at the edges. She was happy to see him, no matter how tired her smile looked.

"Hi," was all she said, and that was enough for Dean. He swallowed, smiled a small smile. "Hey."

His gaze fell upon a little girl, curled up in the spring grass upon a quilt. She was sleeping soundly. Dean didn't know who she was, but now was not the time to ask. He wasted no time in moving to sit beside her, and she looked back out over the landscape once more. His green eyes lingered on her face, the familiarity of it, and a fraction of his pain dulled in just the slightest. "I figured you'd find me," she said after a moment, and he remained quiet. "I heard about Jo and Ellen. I'm sorry." Dean looked away. Names. Just more names added to the list of the fallen. His fault. Too much to bear. The wind shifted and tossed the ends of her cherry hair around her pale face. He watched, didn't say anything. Let her do the talking, like she'd always done. "And I heard… about Sam. And… and you…" Her eyes moved to his and he saw a sorrow in them that was much deeper than what he'd remembered. "When you got back I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you so badly, but…" She broke off, and he frowned. Something was wrong. "But?" he asked, shifting a bit.

Her shoulders were tense, as though she harbored the weight of the world upon them. He knew that feeling, all too well. "Some things came up." She said almost shortly, and Dean let it be. He knew her well enough to know that she'd tell him eventually. He snorted. "That's putting it lightly," he muttered, and a grin twitched at her lips. He looked down at her and felt suddenly tired. Much more tired than he had in a long time. He wanted to follow her home and sleep in her king-sized bed with her and wake up to breakfast in the morning. He wanted to hear her laughter, laughter he'd always adored in the years he'd known her. He wanted to love her. But he couldn't do any of those things, and they both knew it. So here they were.

The little girl snuffled in her sleep and the woman's eyes cast down to her. Immediately a protective shadow crossed over her face and she leaned forward, reaching out to push a few strands of blonde hair off the toddler's forehead. She was small and fragile-looking, couldn't be more than five. Her lashes were long and her golden hair curly. She looked like a porcelain doll. Dean looked at her. "Who's the kid?"

Her face was passive for a moment but then she frowned slightly. "Emily." She said then, and sat back in her original position as the child stilled once more. "Her name is Emily. She… she's my brother's daughter. My niece." Dean nodded in understanding. "Are you watching her tonight or something? Kinda a weird sleepover idea."

The shadows on her face surprised Dean. She shook her head. "She's my responsibility now." She said softly. "She has been for nearly a year. Christopher and Sarah died."

He blinked in surprised, his eyes flickering once more to the small child. Her parents were dead? So that meant she was raising her. He looked back to her. "She's what came up." He stated, and she nodded. "I took her and hid. I felt it was the safest thing to do." Dean nodded. "And you were probably right."

Her face looked tired, dark circles gathering under her eyes. "You look how I feel," he mused, and she nodded. "Forty years in Hell is a long time." Her words were soft, filled with heartache, and something in his sore heart twisted painfully. He tore his gaze away from her, staring with unseeing eyes out across the moonlit lake. His jaw tensed. "Not long enough." His words were tight, laced with anguish. He did not expect the feather-light touch of her hand on the back of his, fleeting. His skin tingled at the sensation and it sent shivers down his spine.

"I wish things could have been different," she said and then suddenly she was moving, kneeling down to scoop the tiny child into her arms, blanket and all. Dean rose, too, his expression unreadable as he looked down to her. It was amazing how such a tiny little woman could make his heart pound so rapidly for reasons he didn't even understand. Her smile was tight and forced. "It's getting cold," she said. "Go and rest, all right? I… I'll be here, if you need me."

He held her gaze for a long moment before nodding once and turning to walk back to the car. So many things going through his mind – why here, why now, after all this time? Since Hell his thoughts had wandered to her occasionally but he'd resigned himself to the fact that she was gone. And now, he realized, that she never had been. Not really.

Dean stopped and turned to face her, his jaw tensed fiercely against the heart that was in his throat. "Would you have loved me?" he asked, and was surprised at the words. "If… if all of this wasn't happening… if we were normal people and we could… would you?"

She was quiet, the tiny slip of her silhouette standing silently against the dark backdrop of the night sky. She was thinking, and he knew it. After a moment, she tucked a strand of hair behind one ear and wet her lips. "I've always loved you, I think." she said, and his heart ached. "And I don't think that I'll ever stop."

There was no awkwardness. He'd known. He swallowed once, hard, and nodded. "If we make it out of this alive - "

She held up one hand. "Don't." He stopped immediately, continuing to watch her. She was looking at him, and smiling, but her eyes were glistening with unshed moisture. "Just… Just promise you'll call."

Dean smiled, then, surprised when a bit of liquid heat welled up behind his own eyes. He reached forward, gently resting his large, calloused palm upon the softness of her cheek. He felt her tilt, leaning into his touch lightly. "I promise." He said, his eyes upon her face. "I'm going to protect you. I just… I'm going to. No matter what it takes."

He turned and walked away before he could take in the softness of her smile, the way her pink lips beckoned him, or the subtle lilac scent of her auburn hair. He could feel her eyes upon him until he was out of sight. He started up the Impala and drove back to the motel, bypassing the bar along the way.

Sam was still sleeping soundly when he came in.


	2. Promise You'll Call

I have gotten some positive feedback on this, so I decided to continue. But need everyone's opinion – would you like to see it become an actual story, or just a series of one-shots? Either way, the one-shots will be centered around Dean and the mystery girl. – how they met, who she is, exactly, and why she means so much to him. If I do a story, it will be chronological, of course, and if you guys are interested in their history I could always do it in the form of a flashback.

As for this installment, I'm going to do a flashback. Or, if it's decided that it's more of a one-shot story, we'll call it another one-shot. Feedback is great, let me know what you guys want to read.

_I find a map and draw a straight line over rivers, farms and state lines.  
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be is only finger-lengths that I see._

**Tuesday, May 14****th****, 1997**

Dean was leaning against the driver's side of the Impala when the school bell rang. He watched, hands tucked into the pockets of his dad's leather jacket, as the students filtered out from the building, chattering incessantly and scattering to the busses or their rides or their own cars in the parking lot. Green eyes searched out two separate individuals, and when they found them a smile stretched over his handsome face. Dean pushed himself up into an upright position off the car, hands still in his pockets, and his smile widened as the figures approached, "Hey, Sammy!" he called, and his younger brother glanced up to him, smiling in return and waving. Dean did a quick one-over of his brother as he came to stand before him, and pleased to see that he was all in one piece, allowed his eyes to drift to the girl beside him.

She was taller than Sam, but only by a few inches, and he thought it was funny that even though Sam was four years her junior, he'd probably be taller than her by the time he was fifteen. Her auburn curls were pushed back by a headband, a light spring dress covering her thin figure. Her books were clutched in her arms, as usual, and Dean couldn't help but smirk. "Hey, Red." He greeted, and she chuckled lightly, used to his silly nicknames by now. "Hey, Dean. How was work?" She was referring to the job he'd gotten at the garage a few months back. He shrugged. "Fine." He'd been forced to get a job – mostly by his dad's strict rules – since he'd turned eighteen and consequently dropped out of school. If he wasn't going to further his education, John said, he would have to get a job to support himself.

So, like the good son he was, he'd gotten a job the very next day. And, perhaps because of that, John had allowed them to stay in the small town of Cedar Bluff, Virginia. They'd gotten there just after Christmas and now, halfway through May, they were still in the same place. Sam, of course, had been absolutely ecstatic and Dean couldn't truthfully say that he had room to complain.

Sam walked around to the passenger side of the Impala, opening the squeaky door and tossing his books inside, while Dean turned back to survey his friend. "So are you still picking me up tomorrow?" she asked. "I figure you could take me out for sundaes since it _is_ my birthday. It's not every day your best friend turns eighteen. I remember when _you_ turned eighteen you were going to go to a strip club until I made you stay behind and go tubing with me." Dean couldn't help but grin at that. He'd grumbled a bit about missing out on the naked women, but in all honesty he wouldn't have done it again any differently. Somehow, spending the day with her, sledding down the giant hill in someone else's field, watching her laugh, pink-faced, with the snowflakes clinging to the red hair that was exposed under her knit winter hat… It had all been worth it. _She_ had been worth it, and maybe that was why…

His face must've fallen because her pink lips turned down at the corners in a frown. "Dean, what's…" he started, and his jaw clenched as he looked away from her. "I can't." he said, and the words burned like acid in his throat. He could feel her shoulders tensing without even looking at her. "But… why?"

The door squeaked again and Dean cursed inwardly as Sam peered at him over the top of the Impala. He was just tall enough so that his nose was visible. Even though his mouth was hidden, Dean knew that it was twisted into a very Sam-like scowl. "Dad's making us leave, isn't he?" came Sam's incredulous voice. "This is ridiculous, Dean! Term ends in three weeks! He promised we could stay until I finished ninth grade!" Dean shook his head, knowing how Sam felt but somehow unable to voice his troubles in the same way. "Sam, Dad is just doing what's best. There's another job in Illinois and – "

"I don't care!" came Sam's voice. "I _hate_ this stupid job. He can't keep uprooting us like this! How am I supposed to finish my freshman year in a new school? I actually made friends this time! I like it here! And I know for a fact you do too. I mean, you've got your job, and…" Both of the boys turned to look at her, and she was holding a deathgrip on her books. Grey eyes were wide with surprise and obvious pain. "You… you're leaving?"

A moment passed before Sam slammed the door and stalked off, hands in his pockets. "I'll walk." He shot briskly back to Dean, and his older brother sighed, scrubbing one hand over his face. This was definitely not the way he was supposed to tell her. Hesitantly, he lifted his eyes back to hers and was almost surprised at how upset she looked. Not angry, but genuinely upset. "You're leaving? Today? But… tomorrow's my birthday. And Friday is the football game and this weekend you were going to show me how to fix a transmission, and…" She bit her lip and looked away from him. "You're leaving."

It absolutely broke his heart to see her like this, and he shifted to bring his hands out of his pockets to wrap his arms around her. Her books fell from her arms and hit the pavement with a few dull thuds, and her thin arms were soon tucking around him. She pushed her hands under his leather jacket, hugging herself to him and burying her face in his chest. One of his large hands moved to her back, holding her to him and trying to prevent her from trembling. The other hand moved to gently tangle through her auburn locks as he dipped his head to rest his cheek on the top of her fiery mane. He could feel her tender heart pounding against his chest, through the flannel of his shirt and the cotton of her dress. He didn't want to let go. He wanted to assure her that he would be here for her birthday and the stupid football game and he'd teach her to be the best (and hottest) mechanic in the state. But he wouldn't be. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't stay, and they both knew that.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, his voice thick with upset as he tried to swallow down resentment toward his father. He had an obligation, and as much as he'd wanted to stay, he simply couldn't abandon his family. Especially not Sam. Taking care of Sam was the only thing he was good at, really. She sighed deeply in his hold and then pulled back to look at him. Her hands moved from his waist to rest on his shoulders. His own hands gravitated down to rest gently on her hips. They'd never touched this way before, and Dean's skin tingled at the knowledge. He'd been with this girl almost every day for the last six months, and he'd never kissed her, or hit on her, or even tried a pickup line. She was different, and maybe that's why it hurt so much. Why he wanted her so badly.

"I'm not going to ask you to stay," she said, and he blinked down at her, surprised. She frowned a bit, one thumb tracing comforting caresses over the cloth-covered skin of his shoulder. "I know how much you love your dad, and your little brother, and I would never ask you to choose me over them." His jaw tensed fiercely as he looked at her, and suddenly he wanted to stay so badly he could almost taste it. He _wanted_ her to ask him to stay, and he knew in that moment he would. But she didn't.

Instead, she leaned up on her tiptoes, tilted her head and pressed her pink lips to his cheek. Dean started a bit in shock. He'd had plenty of make-out sessions, and even a couple of sexual experiences already, but never once had a girl kissed him on the cheek as tenderly as she was now. After a long moment she pulled back and looked at him, and he swallowed hard to keep his heart out of his throat. "I'm going to miss you, Dean Winchester." she said, and he managed a small smirk. "I'm going to miss you, Allison Cooper."

Her eyes were welling with tears, and she released him with one hand to reach up and hastily wipe any rogue moisture away. "Dean, I just…" she started, and her voice was surprisingly strong. "I just want you to know that – "

"Allie!"

She turned her attention away from him, over his shoulder, and Dean turned as well. There was Sam, hurrying toward them. He stopped just before the two of them, looking up at Allie sheepishly. "I forgot to say goodbye," he said, and Allie beamed. Releasing Dean, she stepped forward and leaned down to envelop Sam in a hug. The boy turned a bright shade of red and Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "You take care of yourself, Sam." she said softly before releasing him and ruffling his shaggy hair. "Don't let your dad and brother get into too much trouble." Still red-faced, Sam fixed his mussed hair and murmured a small "okay" before turning and heading off once more.

Allie laughed, and turned back to Dean, who was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. "He's never had a cute girl hug him before, I guess." She observed with a laugh, but as she studied Dean her happy smile faded into a look of disdain. "Promise me you'll call. Please, Dean. Promise me you'll call."

He opened his mouth to answer, but the rumble of his dad's truck drew his attention away from her. Sure enough, as he turned, John's truck was pulling up beside them. Sam was already in the back with his books, looking absolutely enraged, and John glanced down to his eldest. "Everything's already in the truck. I want you to follow me in the Impala. We're headed to Brookfield, Illinois." Allie tensed beside him, but she put on her best smile. "It was nice meeting you Mr. Winchester. Have a safe trip!" John's dark eyes moved to glance at Allie, who had reached over and taken Dean's hand into her own. "It was nice to meet you… Amy."

Dean frowned. "Her name's Allie, dad." He said, and John huffed a bit. "Don't get behind. We need to leave, now." And with that, the truck roared to life and John drove off, Sam still scowling in the back seat. Dean turned to Allie, and she smiled brightly for him. "Be careful, okay?" she requested, and he rolled his eyes a bit. "Please. I'm a Winchester. We're practically invincible." She sniffled a bit and nodded, and he allotted her hand a tiny squeeze before releasing it. "I should go."

Allie nodded and stepped to the side as he climbed into the driver's side and turned on the Impala. Led Zeppelin was blasting from the speakers but he still turned and looked at her, her hands clasped tightly together as she tried to keep smiling. "I don't usually call," he said, and her shoulders fell a bit. "But, you know… I'll call you, Allie. I will. I promise."

He drove away before she could say anything else, and as much as he tried not to, he still found himself glancing into the rearview mirror to watch her. He never looked back, not once, because it was always so hard, but he found himself unable to stop himself this time. Allie was still standing in the middle of the road with her hands clasped together. Dean watched her for as long as he could, before her svelte form retreated into a small dot, and then disappeared altogether.

_I'm not going to forget you, Allie Cooper._


	3. Not Anymore

I just want to say thanks to my reviewers for the awesome comments. I really think I'll be sticking to the story. I've decided to do it in a sort've series of one-shots. They won't always be chronological (mostly jumping between Dean and Allie as teens/young adults to present time) but I'll be sure to always reveal the dates so you guys don't get confused.

Reviews are like fuel for my muses!

Saturday, September 19th, 2009.

There was a loud rapping on the door at eight in the morning. Dean Winchester groaned and shifted, turning to bury his face deeper in the pillow. Hopefully, he thought, if he ignored it, it would go away. After a few seconds, it seemed that his wish would not be granted as another rapid series of knocks disrupting his attempt at slumber. He groaned once more. "Sam!" he barked, his voice thick with sleep, but his brother's only response was to shout something about already being in the shower. So, it was with premeditated hatred for however the hell was waking him up at 8 AM (he would shank a bitch if it was room service) Dean Winchester rolled out of bed, scrubbed his palm over his face, stumbled to the door and flung it open.

His green eyes widened considerably as he took in the site before him. There, still as short as ever, stood Allie. Her red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but a few strands were still framing her face. When she saw him she smiled warmly and his heart gave a little twist at it. He hadn't seen her since that night in the park two days ago, and she'd texted him the day before to let him know she'd be stopping by the motel. How she'd found him he'd never know. She'd never been too good at hunting, but she was smart, so she probably tracked one of his fake names to the local motel.

"Hey!" she said brightly, and he couldn't help but give her a small smirk. "Mornin', sunshine." He commented dryly,, suddenly unable to really give a damn that she'd woken him up. He'd almost forgotten how easily her smile could make him forget some of his heartache – at least temporarily. She rolled her eyes a bit at him. "Oh, please. This is being up late for me." She gestured down to the little girl, whom Dean had just noticed, holding onto her hand and staring pointedly at her shoes. "Emily's up at the crack of dawn. So, I've adjusted." She shrugged. "It's life." Her grey gaze flickered down to her niece, and she prodded her gently. "Em, can you say hi to Dean? He's an old friend of mine. He knew your daddy, too. He helped us once when we were younger."

Emily still refused to look up, but she mumbled a small "hi" before sticking her thumb in her mouth. One of Allie's hands passed gently through the toddler's hair, and then she smiled up to Dean. "I bet she thinks you're handsome," she teased, and Dean chuckled. "I get that with the ladies all the time. Come on in." he said, stepping aside to allow them room. Allie nudged her niece a bit, stepping over the threshold, and as she passed Dean one of her soft hands lingered on his shoulder. He watched her for a moment but she didn't acknowledge the contact. Instead, she guided Emily over to the makeshift kitchen table, lifted her onto a chair, and pulled a box of crayons and a coloring book out of her bag. "Color me a pretty picture to hang on the refrigerator, okay?" she asked, and Emily nodded, blue eyes wide with innocence, and began her drawing.

Allie turned back to Dean, then, and was about to speak when the bathroom door opened. Sam, his hair still damp, peeked out. "Is there someone… Oh, man, Allie?"

Allie blinked in shock at the man before her. "Sam?" she asked, and he opened the door the rest of the way to beam at her. "Sam Winchester? No way," she commented, and laughed. "Seriously? Sam, you got _huge_!" she exclaimed, and Sam moved forward to lean down and hug her gently. "Nah," he teased. "I think you just got short." Allie looked up at him incredulously. "The last time I saw you, you were the same height as me," she said, shaking her head. "What do they feed you over in California, huh, college boy?" Sam simply chuckled and ruffled his hair a bit with one large hand. "It's been almost five years since then, Al." he corrected gently, but she waved him off. "Right. And I only got two postcards and even fewer phone calls." Her eyes turned to land on Dean. "At least _you_ kept in touch with me."

Dean shook his head and laughed, trying not to wince at how absolutely hollow it sounded. Allie passed him a look, a shadow passing over her features that was all too familiar. Dean inwardly cursed. He'd almost forgotten how well she could read him. Allie turned back to Sam. "That's Emily, my niece." She said, gesturing toward the little girl. "Sam, could you… do you mind keeping an eye on her for a second? I mean, she'll just sit there and color… I just wanted to talk to Dean- " Sam cut off her explanation with a trademark grin and nod of his head. "No problem." And, of course, that sealed Dean's fate. As much as he adored Allie, he really didn't want to talk to her about everything that had happened. Maybe it was because he knew it wouldn't help. Or maybe it was because he knew that his resolve would crumble if he had to keep looking into her light gray eyes.

Even still, he followed her outside, around the back of the motel, and sat down beside her as she plopped down on the curb. No cars or people were in sight, and a light breeze blew. For a long moment, she was silent; sitting with her hands clasped together in a fashion he unfortunately knew all too well. She exhaled, a few loose strands of cherry hair drifting off her forehead, before she turned to look at him. "I just… I can hardly bear to look at you, Dean." She said, and the man was taken aback. Had she somehow heard about what he'd done in Hell? Was she repulsed by him? He felt his armor begin to clink back into place, but her hand was suddenly on top of his as if she'd sensed it. "I mean, when we were younger… you'd always been hurting. Always. It was something I always hated, but something I just had to learn to live with." Her eyes were welling up with tears now. "And seeing you last night for the first time in over a year… seeing you now, and…" she swallowed hard. "You are so empty, Dean. So broken and hurt and just… I can see the anguish in your eyes and it's breaking my heart." Her voice caught, her fingers wrapping around his hand even as his own twitched in response to her touch.

He watched her for a moment, his jaw tensing, as he took in the state of her face. She was truly upset, seeing him in this condition, and in all honesty he should have seen it coming. Even still, he shook his head and glanced away, feeling that familiar burning sensation settling somewhere deep inside his chest. "You don't want to try and fix me, Allie." He said, and his voice was deep and gravelly with anguish. "Believe me. I'm not the same kid you knew in high school, or even the same guy you knew two years ago. I'm just…" He swallowed hard, tentatively lifting his eyes to meet hers. "If you knew what had happened, the things I'd done… you'd turn tail and run. And I wouldn't blame you."

Suddenly she was biting her lip, and shaking her head, and all at once her arms were around him and his breath escaped him in one dense huff. How could such a tiny little woman be so strong? Her arms were pulling him tight to her torso, stray flyaways of her hair tickling his cheek. He could feel her small frame quivering, but her grip did not lax as he finally drew his own arms around her. Her held her much tighter than he'd originally intended, but she did not flinch away from him. Instead, she scooted that much closer, one smooth hand coming to rest on the back of his head, holding it to her skin as if it were his anchor. He drew another surprised huff of air against her, and moved to rest his cheek against the crook of her neck. Her could feel her pulse pounding in his ears, smell the faint scent of lilac that was so utterly _Allie_ it nearly left him breathless.

They stayed that way for a long moment before pulling away, just close enough to look into each other's eyes. Dean was frowning, desolate. "I don't think you can save me, Al." he said softly. "Not anymore."

She was frowning, too, even as one thumb traced gently over his cheek. "I know," she agreed, and tried her hardest to smile for him. "But I'm sure as hell going to try."


	4. Six Months

Now, I know there are a lot of fanfictions out there with Dean/OFC pairing. I'm trying to make mine as original as possible. Being that, of course, Allie is definitely not going to be a Mary-Sue. I've just figured that, with everything Dean's been going through, he needs at least one person that can at least comfort him a little. Allie will not have some huge plot twist where she's really what Lucifer wants, or fall in love with Castiel, or reveal later on that Emily is Dean's daughter or anything. Allie's just Allie. She's someone I made for Dean. And yes, later on, there will be a plot that involves her family in some way, but that will end up only being there to help further Dean's "destiny" and his actions.

And, maybe, depending on my reviews, I might toss a few intimate scenes in somewhere down the line. ;]

Reviews are like fuel for my muses! Let me know what you guys think/want to read so I know what to write. I'd like a few before I update next.

~*~

_I touch the place where I'd find your face.  
My finger in creases of distant dark places._

**Thursday, November 12****th****, 1997**

It had been a long hunt. The longest the Winchesters had been on in quite some time. It had been a poltergeist – not one, or two, but three. Three vengeful, temperamental, havoc-wreaking spirits. One for each of the Winchesters to deal with. It hadn't been easy, but they'd done it. They'd finally managed to salt and burn the remains after fighting with the ghosts repeatedly. All three of our heroes had escaped with bruises and cuts and scrapes, but fortunately nothing too serious. And now, they were finally headed back to the motel for a much-needed rest. Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to a proper meal, shower, and sleep.

As soon as they got in, John grabbed his wallet and was off again, headed for the local bar. Dean tensed his jaw and watched him go. Things like that with John were typical, but more so in November, the month that Mary had died. Sam just shook his head and Dean didn't complain when he called first shower. While his brother headed into the bathroom, Dean sank onto his and Sam's bed, wincing a bit as his aching muscles protested harshly at being stretched so. For the most part he was okay, a little sore and bruised, but he'd had way worse. Even still, he lifted a hand to touch gingerly to his ribs where the spirit had thrown him against an armoire, and gave an almost silent hiss. Yeah, that would definitely be hell tomorrow.

Bending awkwardly so as not to strain himself, Dean pulled off his boots and socks, and pushed them under the bed. With a small sigh, he flopped sideways onto the queen-sized mattress, not really caring if Sam came out and complained. As it was, his mind began to wander as he gazed at the ceiling, and within a few moments he decided he wanted to call Allie. It had been about a week and a half since he'd called her last, and he'd been doing pretty well keeping in contact with her. She was always delighted to hear from him and always said how much she missed him. He could rightfully say the same. His throat would always get dense when he said he missed her, too, and part of him ached for her smile. It had been too long.

Dean sat up and pulled open the bedside drawer. Inside were some assorted knives, ammo, fake I.D's, a couple condoms, a candy bar and, alas, his new cell phone. He'd gotten it just before he and Sam and Dad had left Cedar Bluff. He went to dial her number, but the red light was flashing, indicating he had a new voicemail. Frowning a bit, and hoping she didn't think he was ignoring her, Dean listened.

"_Hey, Dean, it's me! I know you're probably busy, but I just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you. I really miss you. I hope you guys are doing all right. I know we just talked a couple days ago but I'm a bit of a worrier. You know that. Tell Sam I said to take care! Call me whenever you get the chance. Bye!"_

Message saved.

"_Hey, Dean, it's Allie. I hope everything's okay… I mean, it's been a week and… Oh well, it's probably me being paranoid again. I'm dealing with finals right now, seeing as it's getting close to Thanksgiving break but don't be a stranger! I can always take a break from studying to talk to you. Be careful!"_

Message deleted.

"_Okay… I'm kinda starting to worry. Three weeks? That's not natural. If it's something like… you don't want to talk to me or anything, just… just call me and tell me you don't want to talk to me. Okay? You don't have to if you don't want to… just, anything to let me know you guys are okay. That's all I'm asking for. Uhm… this is Allie, by the way. Allie Cooper."_

Message deleted.

"_Hi, this message is for Dean Winchester… hopefully I got the right number. Anyway, this is Christopher Cooper. You might remember me. I'm Allie's older brother. I was just calling to let you know that… there's been an accident. Allie's okay. Well, sort've. I mean, she's going to be fine, eventually, but… Ahem. She told me not to bother you, but if I remember correctly you two used to be really close and I thought you'd like to know. We're at the hospital in Burke… Yeah. Just wanted to let you know. I have her phone on me so if you have any questions or anything, give me a call. Take care."_

Before Dean knew what hit him, he was on his feet, dragging his boots out from under the bed and yanking them on hurriedly. He swiped the keys to the Impala off the desk, glad the bar was only walking distance and his dad hadn't taken the car as a result. Sam must've heard the rukus because the sounds of the shower stopped, and soon enough his younger brother was calling out his name in curiosity. "I'll be back in the morning," he said gruffly as he pulled on his jacket, and Sam was silent for a moment. "But Dad-"

"I'll deal with that when I get home," Dean barked, and twisted open the motel door. "Allie needs me." He didn't even wait for Sam to reply before he was slamming the door behind him and jogging to the Impala. All the things Dad would say to him when he got back… surely he'd be dead, in more trouble than he'd ever been in before, but he didn't care about that as he whipped out of the motel parking lot, tires kicking up gravel as they moved, and sped toward the highway.

It took a good three and a half hours to get to Burke, and Dean went a good 15 mph over the speed limit the entire time. Must've been good luck that he hadn't been pulled over, because he'd left his wallet with his fake license back in the motel. Maybe if he wasn't so hell-bent on getting to the hospital, he would have time to regret his rash decision, or worry about how much his Dad was going to yell, and how terrible he'd feel for breaking one of the more important rules. There were few things that could cause Dean Winchester to intentionally disappoint his father, and the tiny redhead with the sunshine in her eyes was one of them.

It was close to 3 A.M. when he pulled the Impala into the memorial hospital in Burke, Virginia. Within seconds he was up the walk, to the front desk, and he must've looked more than a little tense and upset because the night receptionist jumped when she saw him. "I need to see Allie Cooper," he said in a low tone, and the woman frowned. "I'm sorry sir, but visiting hours are clearly – "

"I don't give a _rat's ass_ about visiting hours, lady." He growled. "I have to see her. She's really hurt and I don't have much time." The woman pursed her lips, studied him for a moment, and then gave a relenting sigh. "Second floor. Room 28 A. But she's probably sleeping, so – " Dean didn't hear the rest of the woman's words as he muttered a quick thanks and turned to the stairwell. There was no way he was waiting for the damn elevator, so he took the stairs two at a time and hurried down the hallway, green eyes searching for her room. And, after what seemed like forever, he found it, and a sigh of relief escaped him. Tentatively, he turned the handle and pushed her door open with bated breath, almost afraid of what he might see.

Allie was lying in the hospital bed, the head of it raised a bit to support her, along with several pillows. Her face was smooth and peaceful in sleep, save for a few bruises that dotted her light complexion. Dean's gaze swept over her form, lingering briefly on the IV machine next to her. Two wires were protruding from her thin arms, and a blanket was tucked around her torso. Dean's jaw tensed, and he pushed the door the rest of the way open, stepping into the room as quietly as possible, letting the door close behind him with a light click. Her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, and from what Dean could tell, it looked regular. He moved closer, snagging a nearby stool and placing it beside her bed before sinking down into it.

A few tresses of crimson hair were framing her face, and he reached out to push them away. Damn, but she looked so small and fragile in this state! She was eerily pale with the moonlight streaming through the curtains. Dean felt a small wad of guilt gathering in his stomach. Christopher hadn't been specific in his message. What had happened to her? Had someone else done this to her? Could he have protected her? Simmering anger replaced the guilt inside him, and Dean took a sharp breath. If he hadn't have left her, maybe none of this would have happened. So engrossed was Dean in his own self-loathing, that he didn't even notice when he bright eyes fluttered open.

"Dean." Her voice was soft, and slightly gravelly from sleep. Instantly his eyes flickered to her face. "You're here." He smiled, nodded and gave a nonchalant shrug, as if he hadn't just basically stolen his dad's car and driven a hundred miles in a panic to her side. "I just got your messages. And Christopher's, so- " A shadow fell over her face. "Wait… Christopher called you? Shit, I'm sorry, I told him not to bother you." To Dean's horror, Allie moved to sit up with a wince, and instantly her friend had gentle (yet firm) hands on her shoulders to stop her. "Woah, woah, easy, Red." The old nickname caused something unfamiliar to flicker in her gray gaze and she relaxed back against the bed. "I've been missing you, Dean Winchester." She said softly, and his jaw tensed. "I've been missing you, Allie Cooper."

She gave a bright, albeit tired smile, and turned her hand palm up. He took the invitation and slid his own hand into hers, his eyes never leaving her face. "How did you get here?" she asked, then. "And why haven't you been calling me back?" At this, Dean had the good grace to look sheepish. "I just… we've been hunting. A lot. Barely had enough time to sleep. I'm sorry. Tonight was the first night I could… you know." He cleared his throat. "I know it's not an excuse, but sometimes the job… anyway. I uh… I borrowed the car." Allie's eyes widened. "Your dad let you?" Dean winced a bit. "Not… well, I don't… he's kinda…"

A giggle escaped her and Dean blinked down to his friend in surprise. "What?" he quipped, and she shook her head a bit. "I just hope you don't get into trouble," she said, and he couldn't help but smile lightly at that. "Yeah, me either. So tell me why I had to come a hundred miles south in the middle of the night. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?" Allie scowled at him, but she must have been too tired to scold him because she gave a sigh and relented. "My car broke down," she explained. "And since the only mechanic I know left me six months ago, I had to get a ride to work with Rodney Newton." Dean's face clouded over at the name. "That moron? Honestly Al, I thought you had more sense." She scowled again. "Be quiet. It was the only choice I had. Anyway, long story short… he was trying to show off by speeding and doing U-turns in the middle of the road, even though I obviously wasn't impressed and kept telling him to stop. We ended up nearly crashing into a mini van, and when he swerved to get away from it, we crashed into a tree."

Dean shook his head. "Damn it. You're pretty banged up, then, huh?" he asked, and Allie winced. "Yeah. You can look, if you want." She said, gesturing toward the blanket covering her torso. Dean watched her face for a moment, before gently pulling the blanket away from her. He was then met with her hospital gown, and he brought questioning eyes to hers. She was grinning. "Go ahead," she murmured, and Dean took a hesitant breath, before gently inching the material up. Slowly, her smooth thighs were exposed, and then the pointed jut of her hips. She was clad in comfy boy-shorts underwear that he tried pointedly not to look at as he continued to move the fabric. He stopped once she took the material from him so it bunched just under her breasts, leaving her exposed from the bottom of her sternum, down.

There were bandages around her ribs, and dark bruises and cuts dotted her stomach. Dean felt the wad of guilt grow tighter, and he shook his head. "Damn it, Allie," he muttered. "If I had been – " he started, but she cut him off, one hand grasping his once more as the other hand moved to pull the gown back down once more. "You're here now," she said softly. "And that's all that matters. You drove all this way, risked getting in trouble just to make sure I was okay." He nodded once. She watched him for a moment with an unreadable expression on her face. "You still have no idea how amazing you are, do you?" she asked him, and he scoffed.

"No, I'm serious," she said, and he looked at her almost reluctantly. Her small hand squeezed his gently. "I know that you blame yourself for so many things, and that sometimes you just think the worst of yourself. But just always remember… I absolutely adore you. You mean so much to me, and you always will, no matter what happens. I am so happy you came to see me. Thank you."

For a few moments, he didn't know what to say. Finally, he just leaned over a bit and drew her into his arms as best he could without putting and strain on her injuries. He felt her breath on his neck as he held her, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like _home_. His nose was pressed into her temple, the scent of her lilac hair nearly overwhelming him. Damn it, if it all didn't just come rushing back to him, then. In that instant, Dean Winchester knew he absolutely loved this girl with everything he had in him. Holding her to him in such a way felt so utterly right. There was no other explanation. Every fiber in his being longed for her touch while he was away, and now that they were together… He knew this was why he had to leave again.

Slowly, he pulled away from her, and tucked some of her auburn hair behind her ear. "I have to go," he said softly, and her eyes clouded but she nodded. "Okay," she said softly, and when he leaned forward to lightly touch his lips to her forehead, he could feel her trembling. And that only steeled his resolve further. He couldn't see her like this again, especially because of him. If something so normal as a car wreck could do this to her… he didn't even want to think about a hunt. He moved away from her, then, and turned to leave. Just as he placed his hand on the doorknob, her soft voice sounded from behind him.

"Promise you'll call," she requested, and he stood still for a long moment. Something painful twisted inside him, and he nodded. "I promise," he said almost gruffly, before forcing himself to leave the room and close the door behind him. His footsteps were heavy as he walked down the hall, and the drive back to the motel seemed to stretch much longer than the drive there. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon as he finally pulled back into the parking lot, and he had a lump in his throat as he silently slipped into the motel room. His dad was passed out, probably drunk, on his bed, and Sam was asleep on the bed he and Dean shared. Quietly, Dean took off his shoes, fixed the salt-line by the door, and slipped into bed. He had Hell to pay when his dad was lucid again, this he knew, but he couldn't bring himself to mind as his eyes slipped closed.

He would call her. He owed her that much.


	5. All I've Got

This one is kinda informational and sweet, and in the coming chapters there will be more plot and action, I promise. Though unless I get a few more reviews I can't guarantee the updates will come very quickly.

**Tuesday, September 22****nd****, 2009**

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Dean asked as he closed the trunk of the Impala and flung the last of Allie's bags over his shoulder. He watched her as he walked the short trek across the parking lot to where she was standing in the threshold of the motel room. She was holding Emily, who still watched Dean with wary eyes, even after a solid three days of being around him. Allie rolled her eyes a bit. "Even if I wasn't, don't you think it's a little late for that?" she asked him, and he grinned. "Yes, Dean, I'm perfectly certain. You and Sam can use all the help you can get, right? And while I may royally suck at the hunting part, you know better than anyone that I can even kick Sam's ass at the research part." He chuckled at that, following her as she turned into the room. He tossed down the last suitcase on her bed and looked back to her. She was frowning lightly as she let Emily down and watched her dash over to drag her toys out of her diaper bag. "It's not like Em and I were staying in one place very long, anyway." She said. "And we'll stick to separate rooms so you and Sam can still have your privacy."

Dean didn't bother telling her that he and Sam wouldn't mind sharing a room with them. He'd already tried and she'd flat out turned him down. Part of him wondered if it was in order to create a place for him to retreat to if he ever needed her, without worrying about Sam observing anything. Her eyes were sparkling with something he hadn't seen in a long time, and suddenly she was reaching for a "go green" recyclable bag filled with ingredients and food. "How about I make you two a proper dinner, hmm?" she propositioned, and Dean's face lit up. "You're an angel," he told her, and she giggled, grabbing up Emily's diaper bag as well and beckoning for her friend and her niece to follow her.

--

Sam could lie all he wanted and say that he wasn't just as thrilled as Dean was about having Allie's cooking again, but Dean knew better. It was all over Sam's face as he sat at the makeshift table, his gargantuan form hunched slightly to fit properly. Dean eyed his little brother with a knowing smirk, as Allie giggled at him and Sam grumbled about none of it being true. But both Winchesters kept their eyes on the short woman in the spring dress as she bustled about the motel's small kitchen. Already, something delicious smelling that he assumed was pasta was boiling on the stove, and Allie was currently cleaning and slicing some chicken tenderloins. Emily was sitting on Dean's bed with one of her books, reading each word in a somewhat hesitant voice.

Feeling her eyes upon her, Allie turned around, knife in hand, to quirk an eyebrow at the boys. "Are you really going to stare at me the entire time?" she asked, and while Sam had the good grace to avert his eyes and clear his throat, Dean simply grinned and nodded. "Hell yes." Allie rolled her eyes a bit, before gesturing that Dean come toward her. "Well then, if you're going to ogle, you can help." Dean looked a bit confused, until she gestured to the cutting board next to her which harbored several different types of assorted vegetables and another knife. "Dice the veggies for me, please," she requested, and he made a show of grumbling as he stood and came up beside her, picking up the knife. She waggled a finger in front of him. "Nope. Nice try. Wash your hands first." Dean pouted. "But I-" "No buts," she interrupted, and he scowled. "Wash up, or I'll let Sam have your plate."

As Dean turned toward the sink, grumbling, Allie cast a quick eye over to Emily. She was still reading her book contentedly, and Sam himself had pulled an old Latin book out of somewhere and was looking over it intently. Allie turned back to Dean as he joined her once more, and smiled brightly. "I could get you an apron, if you'd like," she teased and he pouted again as she giggled and nudged the knife toward him. "It doesn't matter how they're cut as long as they're bite sized for Em," she instructed. "I'm going to toss them together and steam them. Just hack them up however you'd like." And with that, she went back to slicing the chicken into neat, inch-long pieces and separating the good meat from the fat.

For a moment they stood in silence, intently focused on their work as the nightly news broadcasted quietly from the other end of the room. Dean cut the vegetables nicely, handling the large knife with fluid ease. Allie herself finished cutting the chicken and grabbed it up, placing it in the already sizzling frying pan on the stove. She gave a small sigh as she cleaned off the knife, and grabbed a carrot to help him cut. "This is nice," she said. "I miss cooking for you two." Dean smirked at that. "And we sure miss your cooking. We love Bobby and all, but he isn't exactly a five star chef." Allie rolled her eyes. "Don't let him hear you say that."

Another brief moment passed, and she tucked a few strands of loose cherry hair behind her ear. "I find myself doing a lot of things, like cooking every night, now, that I didn't really see myself doing before," she said softly, so that Emily wouldn't hear. "I mean… I'm not saying I don't love it, because I do. And I suppose part of me did want the whole, little house with kids and a husband and a dog thing, you know? I'm just…" she broke off and gave a small sigh. "I miss my brother," she said softly, and Dean stopped slicing to glance at her. Her grey eyes were glinting just slightly with sadness. "I miss Christopher so much, and every time I see Emily smiling, or the certain way she does things… I even see her mother sometimes. And I just can't help but think… I'm her aunt, you know? I'm not her mother, and I'll never be. She shouldn't be with me. I'm not… I'm not the one that should be taking care of her. I love it, of course, but… this is all feels so wrong. It's felt wrong for a really long time, I think."

Dean was quiet for a moment, before glancing over at her a bit. "I understand," he said softly, and a look of gratitude came over her pretty features. "How did they die?" he asked. "And when?" Allie's hands shook just the slightest as she cut, and he watched her carefully as he continued to dice, himself. "It was a fire," she said finally. "I'm not sure if it was anything supernatural or not, but I figured I'd go into hiding with her, anyway." Dean nodded in understanding. "It was about a month after you went to Hell. I wasn't… I didn't think I could… hurt anymore than I did."

She had stopped chopping by now, and her hands were still. Dean looked over to her, reaching over and gently placing one of his large hands over her smaller one. She was frowning lightly. "I missed you," she murmured. "I missed you so damn much, Dean, but I had to protect her. I had to. Christopher's gone, and she's… she's all I've got left." Dean shook his head and curled his fingers around hers. "No, Allie… don't apologize. I understand. I would have done the same thing," he reassured, and she lifted sad eyes to his face. "And for the record," he said, dropping his voice ever lower. "You and Sammy… you're all I've got left."

She gave him a weak smile and squeezed his hand, leaning her small body up against his briefly. "I won't go anywhere if you won't," she promised softly, and he simply smiled at her as he resumed cutting the vegetables. Suddenly, a sharp pain jolted through his body and he jerked back, glancing down just as the sharp blade finished cutting deep into the side of his thumb. He cursed roughly under his breath, releasing the knife and holding his injury up for further inspection. Allie scoffed from beside him as she reached over to snatch the first aid kit out of the drawer. "Some hunter you are," she teased as she pulled out a roll of thin bandages and antiseptic. He scowled at her as she took his hand gently in her own and began to sterilize the cut. "Hey, I saved your ass a few times, didn't I?" he quipped as she laughed. "You have," she admitted. "This might sting a bit."

And, although it did sting, Dean didn't wince. He simply quirked his eyebrows at her. "I've had worse than this, sweetheart," he said, and Allie frowned. "Unfortunately, I know that's true. Be more careful, all right? I dunno that I can afford losing someone else."

And, of course, he knew her words were said in jest, but there was a hint of genuine worry behind them. So instead of brushing her off or saying something smart aleck, he simply caught her hand up with his newly bandaged one and held it lightly to his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured her, and her eyes brightened a bit. "Though… if you stick around long enough you might not like what you see. You've always got an out if you want it."

Though he would never admit it, he was happy when she tucked under his arm and kissed his cheek, even if it was in front of Sam. Maybe she and his brother were all he had left, but Dean figured that there really wasn't anything else he needed for the rest of his life.


	6. Angels Watching Over You

Hey guys! I know it's been a little while since I've updated, but I've been busy with school. Either way, here's a little something that I hope can make up for it. =D

Write me a review and tell me if you like what you're reading! More reviews mean faster updates.

**Wednesday, September 30****th****, 2009**

Allie was sitting on the bed, carefully brushing Emily's still-damp-from-the-bath hair when there was a loud rapping on her door. She started just a bit, and met her niece's eyes as the child turned to look at her curiously. "It's okay," Allie reassured the child as she placed down the brush and stood. "It's probably just Sam or Dean. Sit here, okay?" Emily nodded obediently and Allie made her way over to the front door, peering through the peephole. The all too familiar form of Dean met her eyes, and she couldn't help but smile as she unlocked the door and the deadbolt before stepping back to greet him. "Dean!" she greeted happily, but her smile fell as she took in the state of his face. It was twisted into a look of anguish, and Allie's heart stuttered harshly at the sight. "Dean, what… are you all right? Come in."

He shouldered past her without a word, and Allie closed the door behind him, locking it once more. Dean's eyes softened a bit as they fell upon Emily, and she gave him a smile, which he responded to by sinking down on the bed next to her. "Hey, squirt," he said fondly and Emily giggled, having finally warmed up to him after a few weeks together. "What'cha doing?" he asked, and she picked up her brush. "Allie's doin' my hair an' m'watchin' Underdog." She told him matter-of-factly, and Dean chuckled. "Well, it looks awfully pretty. It's almost 9:30, so you'll be going to bed soon, right?" The little girl frowned and nodded, and Allie smiled, walking to stand at the edge of the bed. "Dean's right, sweets. C'mon, let's get you tucked in."

When Dean stood swiftly, it took Allie by surprise, and soon enough he was scooping Emily up into his strong arms. "I'll put her to bed," he offered, and no matter how she tried, Allie couldn't keep the smile off her face. Dean carried the little girl over to her trundle bed and set her down gently, pulling the covers up and tucking them snugly around her. Bright blue eyes strayed to something on the floor and Dean retrieved it: A stuffed bear that she wrapped up in her arms. Dean smiled down at her, smoothed a few strands of hair out of her face, and said, "When I was little, and my mom would tuck me in… she would always tell me angels are watching over me." His voice was soft, and Allie found she couldn't look away. Dean smiled at her. "So you just remember that, okay? Angels are watching over you." Emily gave a wide yawn, and Dean touched her nose playfully. "Good night, shorty."

He moved from the bed, then, to give Allie room to bend and kiss Emily's forehead. "Goodnight, Em," she murmured. "I love you." Emily smiled sleepily and let her eyes slip closed. Allie stepped back, beside Dean, and they both watched the child for a moment, before she turned to him. "I didn't know that about your mom," she said softly, and he met her eyes. "I think that will help her sleep. That was sweet of you." Dean scoffed, but she didn't miss the faint glint of happiness flashing in the green. No matter how quickly it had come, it was soon gone once more.

Allie opened the front door softly and motioned for him to step outside with her. The air was surprisingly chilly, and she gave an involuntary little shiver. Dean seemed to notice because within a few moments he had wordlessly shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She opened her mouth to voice her concerns about him being cold, but he silenced her with a small shake of his head. A frown flitted over Allie's features as she watched him. "Dean," she murmured, and his jaw clenched hard at the sound of his name. "What's wrong?" His jaw clenched again and he shook his head. "It's nothing," he grunted out. "Damn it. I shouldn't have – "

"Don't do that," Allie interrupted. "Not with me. I _know_ you. Please tell me what's wrong." His eyes met hers for a moment, as though he were silently debating what to do, before he finally let out a frustrated sigh and sagged against the brick wall of the motel. "It's Sam," he explained, and Allie's expression darkened just slightly. "We just… we had a fight. And I mean, I still think that I'm right and he's wrong, genuinely, but I still feel like the world's biggest asshole. I'm just trying to look out for him and he acts like such a damn baby sometimes." Allie nodded in understanding. "You and Sam always work things out," she reassured, knowing how much Dean cared for his little brother. "I'm sure it will all be okay by tomorrow when – "

"No, it's not going to be okay!" Dean barked, and Allie watched him, hoping he would let out all his emotions. "This isn't like all the other times, Red. He's been going behind my back. I was right, all along! And he still did his dumbass stunts and look what happened! How does he expect me to forgive him? He was drinking goddamn _demon blood – " _ Allie's eyes widened. "Demon blood?!" Dean stopped instantly and his face fell a bit. "Shit. Allie, I didn't mean… I didn't mean to say that…" She shook her head and looked at him, concern shining brightly in her molten eyes. "Just explain. What the hell, Dean? What happened? Is he okay?"

One corner of Dean's mouth twitched to the side in a poor attempt at a smile. "I didn't want you to find out this way," he admitted. "When I was in Hell… Sammy was miserable. And there was this demon, Ruby, that had been helping us. You probably remember me mentioning her." Allie nodded, and Dean continued. "Well, when I was downstairs, Sam was hell-bent on revenge, and Ruby offered her blood to him. So… he took it. It's not like he was power-hungry… he just wanted to be strong enough to kill Lillith. But then I go back, but by then he was already addicted, and…" Dean looked defeated, and Allie likened his expression to one that was so world-weary he could hardly stand on his own. And often, Allie wondered how he possessed the strength. So, instead of saying anything, she reached out slowly and let her hand rest on his forearm. "Come inside," she offered. "Sleep her tonight. You two can talk more in the morning." And, without waiting for an answer, she curled her fingers into the fabric of his sleeve and started tugging him toward the door. He followed without a single noise of complaint.

~*~

Allie stood in front of the bathroom mirror, combing through her curly auburn hair. She'd already changed into her flannel pajama pants and white tanktop for bed, brushed her teeth and washed her face. Dean had simply stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, kicked off his boots and flopped down on the bed. Allie gave a small sigh, put down the brush, turned out the light and stepped back into the main room. All the lights were doused, save for the soft blue-ish light of the television. It cast a familiar glow over the slumbering bundle that was Emily, and then the lean, muscled torso of Dean, who was lying on his stomach, his head propped up by a pillow as he stared blankly ahead, lost in thought.

Allison padded softly over to the bed, feet bare against the soft carpet, and climbed smoothly into her side of the bed. Dean lifted his head to look at her as she scooted up so that she was sitting with her back resting against the headboard. She lifted her knees up, creating a dip with her body, and reached over and wordlessly snatched his pillow. He looked at her quizzically for a moment before she placed it in her lap. Understanding, Dean shifted a bit so that his head was resting in her lap. He remained on his stomach, his head turned away from her, and he made a point of staring at the flannel pattern of her pants. One large hand, however, moved so rest flat on the small of her back, and she relished the warmth. She dropped one hand to rest comfortingly between his shoulder-blades, while the other gently combed through his hair.

"Ever since I was seventeen-years-old, I've believed with my whole heart that you could do anything," she said after a moment, and she felt his muscles twitching under her hand. "Even when I first met you, before I found out what you do… I just have always felt safe with you. I believed then, and I still believe now, that you are the strongest human being on the planet. If Sam made mistakes, I know that with your help he will make them right again. Sam is a wonderful man. You raised him to be that way. He's intelligent, too, and I know that once you two stop bickering you'll find a way around this mess. He looks up to you, Dean. You're his big brother." Her hand stilled in his hair for a moment and he didn't miss the light sigh that passed her lips. "My big brother died, too. I'd give anything to have him back. Sam has you back now, and I'm certain that no matter what else happens, he's going to be okay because he has you."

The muscles under her fingers relaxed considerably and she gave a small smile. For several long minutes, she continued to run her hands over him, soothing him, until his breathing became even in what she assumed was slumber. "I meant what I said," she told the slumbering man upon her lap. "I've always loved you. I'm not ever going to stop. I'll love you until the day I die." Needless to say, she was more than a little surprised when Dean's fingers curled inward, clutching the fabric of her shirt at the small of her back, and said,

"I've always loved you, too."


	7. What Words Cannot Say

**Tuesday, October 13th, 2009.**

A few weeks had passed since Dean had admitted his affection for Allie. And, in all honesty, nothing between them had really changed. It was something both of them had just... always known. Still, it had been nice to hear the words. Nonetheless, the Apocalypse was still upon them, and such dark times were no place for romance. Dean and Allie came to a mutual, unspoken agreement that there would be nothing like that between them - not yet, anyway. So things continued as they were for several weeks, until one evening.

-

Allie and Sam sat together at the small kitchen table, pouring over books and searching for possible omens that could be approaching. Dean sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the bed next to Emily. The toddler was lying on her stomach, coloring seriously, and Dean himself was taking a red crayon to a rather large picture of a fire engine. He had just barely persuaded Emily to let him color that instead of the frilly pony she had presented him with ("Boys like _fire trucks_, Em." he had stressed). Every once in a while, Allie would pass a glance to them and then return back to reading quietly, a small smile on her face. This continued for a good twenty minutes, until all of the sudden there was a man standing before the table. Allie jumped to her feet, instantly defensive. "Who are you?" she demanded. "How did you get in here?" The man, who was wearing a trenchcoat, tilted his head to look at her curiously.

In a flash, Dean was at her side, chuckling and grasping her elbow. "Easy, Red. This is Cas. The angel." Allie's eyes widened a bit and she glanced to both Winchesters for confirmation, before turning to look upon the man. Suddenly he was directly in front of her and Allie jumped a bit, but Dean's hand on her elbow prevented her from backpedaling. Castiel observed her curiously, before turning his gaze to Dean. "Is this the object of your affections?" he asked, and Dean coughed a bit in surprise. Luckily, it seemed he wouldn't have to answer, for suddenly a small voice was sounding from beside the bed. "I know you!" Emily chirped, speaking louder and clearer than Dean or Sam had ever heard. Allie blinked. "I'm sure you're mistaken, sweetie. Where did you see him?" Emily took on a look of deep concentration, before frowning and shaking her head. "I can't 'member." she said, and Allie grinned. "That's okay. Come here."

The blonde child hopped over to her aunt's side, all the while watching Castiel with wide, inquisitive eyes, as if trying to place where she knew him from. Castiel, however, was focused on Allie. When she noticed this, the woman blinked a bit in surprise, but found she could not shy away from his almost intense blue gaze. Castiel studied her for a long moment, before looking back to Dean and nodding. "She is strong. You have done well in choosing this companion." Allie's eyebrows shot up. "You can deduce that just by looking at me?" she asked, and Castiel's eyes were upon her once more. "I do not deduce. I know." Allie swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. "But... how..."

"When you were seventeen you fell in love with Dean. You kept in contact with him over the years and you saved every letter he sent you in a box with a green ribbon. You kept that box in the attic of your childhood home and it was the one thing that you would have recovered if you didn't have to go in after your niece. You have not shed a tear since the death of your older brother and it is unlikely you ever will. Instead sometimes you sleep in his T-shirt and clutch a pillow and curl up on the bed and just lie here in the darkness. You are quite a curious human being, indeed."

There was a long silence, before Allie shook her head and gave a somewhat forced laugh. "Well shit. I had no idea you angels were such stalkers." Dean was glaring at Cas, and the angel started a bit. "Forgive me, Allison." he said then, holding up his hands in defense. "When I was assigned to watch over Dean, I was forced to study those around him, you included. I did not mean to sound like… a stalker."

That brought a grin to Allie's lips. Dean watched her for a moment, and something flickered in her grey eyes. "I was just about to start dinner," she says suddenly, and Dean is surprised. Her eyes remain fixed on the angel, and he tilts his head curiously to one side. A smile is twitching at her full pink lips. "I would like it very much if you decided to stay." Castiel doesn't have time to answer before the small woman is brushing past him, padding with bare feet into the makeshift kitchen. All three men watch her, and then Emily is tugging on Dean's jacket. "Dean," she says purposefully, and his eyes drifted down to her face. "Can we has 'skettios for dinner?"

Dean laughs then, a loud and happy sound that makes Castiel blink in confusion and pulls a grin to Sam's solemn face.

After dinner, Castiel bowed his head and gave a quiet thanks to Allie before disappearing silently. Emily reached up and took Sam's hand, pulling him over to the television, requesting that he watch 'Thundercats' with her before bed. Dean watches them go with a fond smile, thinking that being around the child might be just what Sammy needs. He and Em are bonding rather easily. Sam has always been good with kids. Dean was certain he'd make a wonderful father one day – and he refused to acknowledge the possibility that it might not happen. Sammy would get the happy life he deserved, no matter what.

He didn't notice Allie until she was pressing up against him, tucking under his arm like she belonged there or something. Dean adjusted accordingly, his hand fitting to her thin shoulder. The action came as naturally to him as breathing did, and he actually had to pause to think of when in the hell he'd become so soft. But he couldn't bring himself to mind as her hand rubbed small circles in his back and he could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke.

"I didn't realize how much I missed you laughing," she said, and though his instincts insisted that he point out the cheesiness of her statement, he found that there was a lump in his throat preventing his speech. She tightens her grip briefly, rotating her body like a lithe dancer's, and before he could scramble and save his manly pride, she was pressing her lips to his cheek. The sigh that escaped him conveyed so much more emotion than he intended it to, but he didn't even have time to stiffen. "I love you," she said quietly, and even though his unseeing gaze had been trained on Sam and Emily the entire time, he could tell that she was smiling.

The damned lump in his throat still didn't go away, so instead of saying anything, he just tugged her closer to him, tucking both his arms around her and holding her tightly to his torso. She didn't make any complaints; simply pressed her forehead into the hollow of his throat and let him tell her with his embrace what he could not say with his words.


	8. Goodnight Moon Part 1

Hello, readers! I know it's been a while since my last update but hopefully the double-chapters will make up for it. Unfortunately, I can't really guarantee faster updates without more reviews… I need to know my story's being read and enjoyed to have inspiration to continue! This chapter is probably a little vague, but it will continue with Dean going in to see Allie… and there will be plenty of angst to come! I just thought it would be sweet to focus on Sam and Em a little bit.

Reviews mean faster updates! Give me your imput. :]

**Saturday, October 24th, 2009.**

Dean paced outside of the double doors of the hospital, his face passive and set, his jaw clenched. So many things were running through his mind – why had he let her talk him into this, what would he do if she died, why hadn't he reacted more quickly, and more importantly how could he let this happen to her? Sam was sitting in one of the blue plastic chairs in the hospital waiting room next to Emily, who was holding her copy of _Goodnight Moon_ with her blonde hair in pigtails. Her blue eyes were shimmering brightly with fear, and Dean could only imagine what must be going through her head. She'd lost both her parents in one night, and now she might be losing her aunt, too. The eldest Winchester gave a guttural growl, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and stopped before the double doors, trying to peer inside them.

"It's been an hour," he barked. "Somebody should have come back here by now. Damn incompetent doctors… I'm going to go back there myself –"

Sam's hand was on his shoulder, and a little bit of tension eased from Dean's body. "You can't keep blaming yourself for this, Dean." He said quietly. "It could have happened to any of us. She's a fighter. She'll be okay." But Dean was shaking his head, turning to face Sam, and Sam frowned. Dean's expression was dangerously blank, and that was never a good sign. "She's never been hunting before in her life," he said, sounding a bit hoarse, and Sam winced a bit. "So I just thought it would be okay to bring her along when she can't even shoot a –"

"Mister Scott?" came a female voice, and Dean and Sam both turned to her, having adopted that fake name as a guise of getting Allie into the hospital. Within seconds, Dean was standing before her, almost towering. "How is she? What happened? Is it serious? When can I see her?" The nurse looked a little flustered, but she cleared her throat and tried to gather her bearings. "She's alive," she said, and Dean relaxed visibly. "She's alive, but she's not awake yet. Fortunately, the fall did not directly impact her brain, but it did cause some damage. We were able to stop the internal bleeding in the surgery, but we cannot be certain how much damage really _was_ done until – if – she wakes up."

Sam looked to Dean, whose hands were balled into fists, and decided to interject. "If?" he asked, and the nurse nodded gravely. "Unfortunately, she is not conscious at the moment. There is still brain activity, but not as much as we'd like to see. Right now, only time will tell." Dean's jaw was set, and before Sam could utter another word, he was pushing past the nurse and heading quickly down the hall, making a left at the end of it and disappearing. Sam watched him go with a deep frown and the nurse sighed. "I wouldn't take the little girl back there, just yet. I'll go in and check on her after her boyfriend has a few minutes and then I will give you an update."

Sam muttered a low thank you, before sinking his gargantuan form back into the blue plastic chair. Emily had pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and had her head down. Sam placed one hand on her back, and faintly he could feel her quivering. Memories flashed before him, of his own childhood, and the many times he had sat in the waiting room with Dean or Dad or sometimes only Bobby, waiting for news on one of his loved ones' conditions. That was the part of this job he'd always hated the most. Sam had lost count of times he'd lost or come close to losing his big brother and his father. Adding Jess and his mom into the mix… it was easy for Sam to get overwhelmed sometimes. But his thoughts soon moved back to the little girl beside him. She'd lost both her parents, and her home, all in one fell swoop. His hand started moving, rubbing in a comforting manner.

There was a tiny sniffle, and a little shudder. "Is my auntie gon' die, Sammy?" she asked, and Sam paused for a moment. At her age, he was smart enough to know he was being lied to. And this child was definitely close to how smart he'd been, then. "I don't know, kiddo," he confessed.

Her shivering increased just slightly. "I don' want her to die," the little girl murmured, her voice surprisingly strong. "I love her very much. An'… an' if she dies, I won't has a home. My mommy and my daddy's dead, too."

Sam's hand moved to the back of her head, gently combing through the golden locks. "If something does happen to Allie, you don't have to worry about not having a home," he said. "Me and Dean… we'll take care of you, okay?" He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around the little girl. She leaned into his side automatically, small hands still clutching her favorite book. Sam gave a small sigh. "Our mom and dad died, too," he said, and Emily sniffled. "But just because somebody dies, doesn't mean that they're gone forever. You can still talk to them, and they'll hear you. I used to talk to my mom when I was little, like you."

He didn't know where all this was coming from, but he sure was glad that Dean wasn't around to tease him about it. Emily gave a little sigh, burrowing against his side. "My auntie has eyes like m'daddy sometimes," she said softly. "An' sometimes she laughs like him, too. I love my auntie. I don' want her to go 'way." Sam shushed her softly, but she would not be deterred. "An' I don' want you to be sad, 'cause she's your friend! An' Dean… som'times Dean looks at my auntie the way my daddy looked at my mommy. It would make him sad, too."

All Sam could do was nod. "Everything is going to be okay," he said, and he gently took the book from her hold, and opened it to the first page. How was he supposed to tell her that it was unlikely Allie would ever wake up? How could he explain to her about monsters and demons and the Apocalypse, and tell her that he and Dean probably wouldn't survive, and she'd be all alone? How could he prepare her for that? He couldn't.

So, instead, he pushed a bit of hair out of her face and began to read. "In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon…"


	9. I Never Told You

Hello, I'm back! I know it's been a while – I've been rather busy with school and I've had surgery, but hopefully this makes up for it. Thanks for the reviews! I haven't gotten a _whole_ lot but I really appreciate the ones I have received. Keep them coming and more updates will come, and sooner. Thanks!

**Sunday, October 25th, 2009 – 12:17 AM**

The only sounds in the hospital room were the ventilator, breathing for her, and the slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor. Dean had pushed the door open quickly, but stopped short in the doorway and simply stared. It was dark in the room, pale light streaming in through the windows, illuminating her prone form upon the bed. For a long moment, he flashed back to her accident when they were younger, but then she'd only been sleeping. Then, her heart had been beating on its own.

His heart was twisted up in his cheat painfully as he took a step forward, the hospital door falling closed behind him with a soft click. All he could do was stare at her, fear burning inside his abdomen, his jaw tensed so hard it was beginning to give him a headache. He moved closer unconsciously, with slow, careful steps until he was standing beside her bed. Wires were protruding from random places on her lithe body, a mask covering her nose and mouth. Her eyes were closed, as if she were merely sleeping, but Dean knew solely by the fierce ache in his being that she wasn't. Her long hair was splayed out on the pillow behind her, her arms still at her side. She shouldn't be like this. It was killing Dean seeing her like this.

He sank down into the chair that had been placed there, his eyes never leaving her beautiful face. There was a lump in his throat that he desperately tried to swallow down as he reached forward and gently slipped his hand into hers. When he was finally able to speak, his voice cracked horridly around the words he so desperately needed to say. "Hey, Red." The machines beeped and Dean blinked hard a few times, ducking his head for a moment to regain his composure, before his green eyes rested on her once more. A shaky breath escaped him and his other hand came to join his first, holding her smooth hand between them. He cleared his throat, once, before continuing.

"The doctors say they don't know if you're going to wake up," he told her, feeling hot tears welling up in his eyes. "And… Damn it, Allison, I'm just not going to sit around and watch you die." He clenched his jaw fiercely, trying to regain some composure. "Hell," he croaked out "Especially when it's all my fault in the first place." He reached out, gently smoothing back a bit of her hair. "Why did I let you talk me into bringing you along, huh? God damn it, Allie. I swore I'd protect you, and I let you get hurt, I – " he broke off once more, his calloused fingers gently tracing over her smooth cheek. "You've got to wake up," he said softly, his adam's apple bobbing hard against the emotions welling up inside his being. "You've gotta wake up for Sam. You're helping him have a little slice of his apple pie life. You and Emily make him smile in ways that I never could. You've gotta wake up for Em. That kid needs you. You're all she's got. You take good care of her. You're wonderful with her, you're perfect. She needs you, and…"

A lone tear escaped, and he didn't dare release his hold on her to wipe it away.

"You've gotta wake up for me, baby," he said. "You've gotta wake up so I can look you in the eyes and tell you how much I love you. How much I've _always_ loved you. How much I've always wanted to drop everything and go home to you every night and…" The emotions in his chest were almost too much to handle, now, and he took a shaky breath. "I didn't even get to kiss you," he murmured. "So… so you've gotta wake up. Just wake up, Allie, and I swear, I _promise_ that I'll say everything I've got locked up inside me. Just… please. I can't stand the thought of losing someone else. Especially not you." Dean took her hand and lifted it, leaning down and pressing his lips tenderly to the back of her knuckles.

"I'll do anything to see you smile again."

An hour later, when the nurse came in to update Sam, Emily was curled up in his lap, her head resting against one of his broad shoulders, her book still clutched in her hands. The nurse gestured for him and Sam rose carefully, supporting the little girl easily and walking smoothly behind the nurse toward the room. What he saw caused his heart to drop. Allie was lying prone in the hospital bed, hooked up to the necessary machines. His older brother had fallen asleep in the chair beside her, his fingers laced through hers. Sam walked softly over to him and shook his shoulder lightly. Dean sprang awake instantly, blinking blearily until he focused on Sam's form. For a moment the ignorance of sleep seemed to still grace him, before reality struck and anguish made an appearance on his handsome face. He glanced to Emily, and then back up at Sam.

"I'm going to take her back to the motel," Sam said quietly. "I'll be back first thing in the morning. I'll call Bobby and see if he can come and keep Em for a little while. I'll bring things for all three of us." Dean nodded curtly, and Sam clapped him on the shoulder once more. "She's going to be okay, Dean," he said and Dean averted his eyes, but his grip on her hand tightened just a bit. Sam sighed. "We'll figure something out, okay? We're not gonna lose her."

With that, Sam Winchester turned and left the room, still supporting his slumbering surrogate niece in his arms, hoping against all hope that his brother's heart wouldn't be broken all over again.


End file.
